The Stepsister Scheme

kidnapped,” said Talia. “They brought him to Fairytown.”
    Slowly, Arlorran lowered his drink. His voice soft, he said, “That’s a serious accusation. We’re not in the habit of allowing criminals through these walls. These kidnappers, were they human?”
    Danielle nodded.
    “Then they’d need magic to get in.” He sucked on his pipe, but the embers had died. He harrumphed and held it out to Snow. “Do you mind, hon?”
    Snow touched her mirror, and a tiny flame appeared on the tip of her finger. She poked the bowl of the pipe until a thread of smoke began to rise.
    “That’s better. So tell me, who is it that took your husband?”
    “My stepsister,” said Danielle.
    “Witch?”
    “Charlotte’s the one who told me about it, but Stacia was involved as well. I’m not sure—”
    “No, no,” Arlorran said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, is she a witch?”
    Danielle hesitated. “I guess so.”
    Arlorran sucked his pipe, then blew smoke toward a pink pixie on a higher bench. “Can’t help you. Sorry.”
    “Why not?” asked Snow.
    “Summoning is a temperamental magic,” Arlorran said gently. “Goblins are easy. The blue runts have no real willpower to speak of. I can do most humans, too. Or I could if the treaty didn’t forbid it. But witches are another matter. If they’re strong enough to take your husband and get through the hedge, they’re strong enough to bind him, too. I’d like to help you, but there’s no way I’ll be able to yank him away from your stepsisters.”
    Danielle turned to Snow, pleading without words for her to argue.
    “I don’t understand,” said Snow. “You told me you were the most powerful summoner in history, that you could conjure the lice from a beggar on the far side of the world.”
    “Right, and I told those lovely pixie girls I was only a century old. What’s your point?”
    “You lied,” Snow whispered.
    “People do that,” said Talia, shaking her head in disgust. “Come on. This is a waste of time. We’ll find him ourselves.”
    “Hey now, don’t be like that,” said Arlorran. “You ladies wouldn’t understand, looking the way you do. But for someone like me, all old and shrunken and wrinkly, how else am I supposed to hold the attention of such a lovely woman?”
    Danielle saw Snow smile, though she raised a hand to hide it the moment Talia turned toward her.
    “I’m the summoner for the queen, that much is true. But magic has limits. You know that.” He took another puff from his pipe. The smoke made Danielle’s eyes burn. “Sorry, lass. I wish I could help, I truly do.”
    “You haven’t even tried,” Danielle said. “Charlotte and Stacia are new at this. They might not have thought to protect Armand from a summoning spell. Or maybe they made a mistake. You can’t just give up.”
    “Actually, I can,” said Arlorran. “It’s my right as a bitter, half-drunk old gnome to give up any time I like.” He grinned and finished the rest of his drink. “And once I’m fully drunk, it will be my right to go home and pass out until it’s time to enchant the next filthy, foul-mouthed, rat-eating goblin.”
    Snow reached out to touch his arm. “Please try,” she said. “For me? I’ve so wanted to see gnomish magic in person.” She lowered her eyelashes. “There’s so much you could teach me, and it seems the least you could do, after the way you deceived me.”
    “Not tonight, ladies.” He hopped down, landing hard on another bench. “I hope you find your fellow, truly I do. But if things don’t work out and you find yourselves in need of... comfort... ” Eyebrows wagged as he slid down to the next bench. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he yelled.
    “Where are you going?” Danielle asked.
    Arlorran patted his stomach. “Water the trees. Too much pixie juice.” He gave them a quick salute with his empty cup, then hurried along the bench toward a small, satin-curtained opening in the wall, where he disappeared.
    Snow was already unclasping her choker. She held it in front of her and squinted at the center mirror. When nothing happened, she tapped the glass a few times with her nail.
    A blur of movement swept through the tiny glass, and then Beatrice’s face appeared. “You’re in Fairytown?” Her voice carried a strange aftertone, like tiny chimes.
    “Arlorran can’t find the prince,” Snow said. “Do you have any other contacts we could talk to?”
    “Most of our communications with Fairytown are carried